


Brosca Babies in Vigil's Keep

by thecryoftheseagulls



Series: Zeryn Brosca [15]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Brosca Babies Shenanigans, F/M, Toddlers, Tumblr Prompt, cute brosca family is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryoftheseagulls/pseuds/thecryoftheseagulls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt: "I am not cleaning this up." </p><p>Potty-training is not Zeryn's idea of fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brosca Babies in Vigil's Keep

"Oh, I am not cleaning this up," Nathaniel Howe mutters under his breath, staring past the open door to one of several privies outside Vigil’s Keep. There are brown stains all up and down the walls and around the seat - clearly made by little fingers, especially since there’s a very small handprint in the mess on the right hand wall that can only belong to one of two people. 

He takes the stairs into the Keep two at a time and throws open the doors into the Great Hall with a disgruntled holler.

"ZERYN! I am SO not cleaning up after the mess your tykes left in the privy."

Sigrun is on the floor by the great brazier, sheets of parchment and pieces of charcoal spread around her. The three-year-old Brosca twins are busy coloring beside her, both smudged and giggling. Snuggled against Alistair’s side nearby, Zeryn looks up from the day’s reports and frowns. 

"Er…mess? In the privy?" She eyes her children with a small frown as they both go abruptly silent. Nathaniel is flapping his hands around and muttering about stains and disgusting and how they should have servants for this kind of thing as Zeryn gets to her feet and goes to squat down by the twins. Alistair follows after a moment. "All right, which one of you left the mess Uncle Nate is talking about?"

Adrina blinks hazel eyes up at her innocently and tugs at a golden curl, smudging charcoal all across her cheek as she does so. 

"Drina did it!" Duncan announces, all red curls and eyes the color of summer leaves. His sister punches him in the arm with a tiny fist.

"Dunkin!" she hisses. 

"Adrina!" Alistair chides. "What have we said about hitting people?"

"To not to," Adrina mutters, looking down. She looks back up again just as quickly. "But you ‘n’ Mama do it!"

"Yes, er. Well. That’s when we’re practicing fighting the big mean darkspawn, Little Rose, not when we’re mad at your brother, hm?" 

Adrina mumbles an okay, and Zeryn sighs. “We’ll talk about this more later, Adrina. Sig, you okay to watch the two of ‘em for a bit?”

“‘Course, Zer,” the other dwarf says. 

"Good. And as for you," Zeryn points a finger at Alistair’s nose. “-you’re coming to help me clean it up,”

***

Outside, Zeryn surveys the mess with a disgruntled expression, her nose wrinkled. Alistair sets down a bucket of soapy water between them. 

"Pleasant," he remarks glibly. 

Zeryn punches him in the arm with considerably more force than their toddler daughter. “I fucking told you I didn’t want children, didn’t I,” she growls.

"Ow!" He rubs at his arm and peers down at her. "You’re blaming me for that? Half-dwarven children are supposed to be rare! And you’re the one who said dwarven women were not very fertile."

"And you’re the one who said the taint made it impossible to have children! Yet here we are!"

"It’s supposed to!" Alistair throws up his hands. "It’s not supposed to be possible!" 

They both glare at each other for a beat more and then burst out laughing. Alistair bends to retrieve the scrub brush and bucket. 

"Not like I’ve never scrubbed a privy before. I can’t count the number of times I had cleaning duty back in my Chantry days. Because it was a lot, not because…"

Zeryn grunts. “Yes, I know, dear, not because you can’t count very high.”

"Exactly! It’s as though you read my mind, darling." Alistair beams at her as if they haven’t had this conversation a dozen times before, and Zeryn shakes her head, lips quirking.

"Or maybe because I’ve been married to you for ten years, you daft sod," she mutters affectionately.


End file.
